


Helping You

by chooken



Series: Keeping You [7]
Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Sex, Apologies, Arguing, Comfort, Concerts, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Established Relationship, Fights, Frustration, In-Laws, Insecurity, M/M, Making Up, Marckian, Marcky, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Pancakes, Pizza, Polyamory, Spitroasting, Spooning, Surfing, Threesome - M/M/M, Wedding Planning, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Mark and Nicky's wedding day gets closer, Kian finds himself caught between stress, fights, insecurity, and his own changing feelings about the state of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping You

“I asked you to do one thing! One fucking thing and you couldn't even...” The front door slammed. Kian turned to look, watching Nicky storm past the living room door and toward the stairs, Mark slouching along behind him, his hands balled into fists.

Kian sighed and turned back to the newspaper. This had been happening more and more lately. Nicky would fly off the handle about something and Mark would inevitably be at fault. Then the blame would start, Mark would get angry, he'd start to shout too...

“Oh, so it's my fucking fault, is it? Shit, I'm sorry Nicky. I'll just go walk off a cliff, shall I? Seeing as I can't do a single fucking thing right!”

...and there it was.

“Maybe if you put in some fucking effort for once!” Another door slammed upstairs. Kian heard it open again, then slam shut for the second time. They were still fighting, he could hear them, muffled through the ceiling. He sighed, reaching forward to grab his iPod off the coffee table and plug in his headphones, nice big noise-cancelling ones that he'd been using a lot more lately.

He suspected it was wedding nerves. He knew Nicky was freaking out a little bit. Not cold feet, but the stress of planning the thing was starting to get to him, putting him on edge every time he saw a table-cloth or a china pattern or a flower arrangement. Maybe if they'd gotten organised a bit earlier, instead of five months out from the date, it'd all be sorted by now. But they weren't like that. Kian had tried to help, but after the constant barricade of crossed arms and sullen looks he'd stopped bothering. It was like they wanted to fight.

He turned his headphones up, looking back to the paper. It was all crap, a couple of political pieces sandwiched between a mound of celebrity news and some fluff about a cat show. He did have a bit of a giggle over an obviously made-up article about one of Louis' other acts, and then put the paper down, lifting the cups of his headphones away, listening out to see if World War Three was still raging. It was. He could hear Mark now, shouting, then the door slammed upstairs and feet came tromping back down the stairs. He turned to look, watched Nicky stalk past with a face like thunder.

“Don't you dare walk away from me!”

“Don't you dare tell me what to do!” Nicky shrieked. “I'm going the fuck out. I don't need your fucking permission!”

“Yeah, so walk.” Mark growled. “That's fine.” He pointed at the door. “Off you go. See you later.”

“Go fuck yourself.” The front door slammed a moment later. Mark kicked it, then sat down on the bottom step of the staircase, huffing to himself. Kian sighed. He wondered which one them was going to end up in his room tonight while the other one sulked in their own bed. Probably Nicky, assuming he even came back. He usually did, even if it was just to sneak in after the two of them had gone to bed and crash on the couch. Mark tended to sulk in his own room. Nicky needed comfort and a bit of a cuddle once he'd calmed down, even if it was usually him who'd started the thing.

Kian pulled off his headphones and glanced back. Mark was still sitting on the stairs, his head in his hands, staring at the front door. Kian got up, heading over to squash himself into the space between Mark and the wall, their thighs pressed together. They sat for a minute, neither saying anything. Then Mark put a hand on Kian's knee, sighing.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine.” Kian replied, putting his hand over Mark's. “You want to talk about it?”

“No. I want to fucking punch something.” Mark bit his lip. “Sorry. We're not usually like this.”

“I know.” Kian draped an arm around his shoulders, smiling when Mark leaned into the touch. “What happened?”  
  
“I don't know.” Mark bit his lip, still staring at the place where he'd last seen Nicky. “We were supposed to meet at the cake shop, but we must have got the times mixed up. I was early, so I got annoyed because he hadn't shown up, and he was late and got annoyed that I wasn't there. I mean, I'd left, hadn't I? I wasn't going to stand around all day waiting, not when he wasn't picking up his phone, and by the time I got back he was there with his mam and they'd practically picked something out without me and I was like 'well, I don't want that one' and he said 'well you should have been there, then' and I said 'I was here, you weren't', and then...” He sighed. “We're idiots, aren't we?”

“A bit, yeah.” Kian admitted. “I don't see why it's a fight though.”  
  
“It wasn't. It just... he keeps making everything my fault and I'm sick of it. Like... it's my fault he couldn't get the band he wanted. It's my fault his homophobic cousins won't come. It's my fault he hated the wedding planner so now we have to do all this ourselves.” He turned his hand over, letting their fingers fold together. “Admittedly, it is probably my fault that I've put on weight since we picked out our suits, but we can just get it altered. It's not...” He shrugged. “It's just one more thing to piss him off.”

“You still look totally gorgeous, if it helps.” Kian smiled, reaching up to stroke Mark's cheek. He was a little bit chubbier lately, maybe, but he wore it well. And Mark had always been a stress eater, so all this probably wasn't helping. His boyfriend blushed, turning to kiss Kian's fingers. “I'd still shag the life out of you.”

“Don't feel right doing it while I'm fighting with Nicky.” Mark shook his head, resting his head on Kian's shoulder. “It's too much like rubbing it in. I don't want to upset him, even if he is pissing me off.”

“I know.” Kian stroked his hair, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “You want me to talk to him?”

Mark shook his head. “Need to sort this out ourselves. I mean, if we're fighting like this now, and then we get married...” He turned to look at Kian. “I want to marry him, I really do, but...”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Yeah.” Mark said softly. He leaned in to kiss Kian, and Kian smiled against soft lips that pressed chastely to his, fingers stroking his thigh gently. Nothing suggestive, just touching. “Sorry.” Mark said when he pulled back. “I'm gonna go have a shower or something, try to relax a bit before he gets back for round two. Or round two hundred.”

He wasn't long gone upstairs when Nicky came back.

“Hey. Forget something?” Kian asked, knowing full well it was his keys, because he'd had to knock instead of letting himself in. He wondered, idly, how far Nicky had gotten after realising he couldn't get into his own car. He looked a bit sweaty, so Kian hazarded a guess that he'd walked around the block a couple of times, not willing to come back in too soon and admit his mistake.

Nicky pouted. “Keys.” He mumbled. Kian stepped back, letting him through the door. “Gonna go for a drive. Want to come?”

“Not really.” Kian put a hand on his shoulder. “You want a hug?”

“Yes please.” Nicky turned around, and Kian gathered him up, stroking tense muscles that shifted under his hand. A chin dropped to his shoulder, a frustrated sigh huffing out. “Sorry about this.”

“It's fine.” Kian squeezed him, kissing his cheek. “Want to tell me what happened?”

Nicky sighed, leaning into his shoulder. They ended up on the sofa a minute later, Nicky cuddled up to Kian's side, looking frustrated and trembly. He wasn't crying, but Kian could feel his face hot and upset against his shoulder, and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“Why couldn't he just fucking...” Nicky shook his head. “I don't know. I'm just trying to get through this, right? He was the one who wanted to get married and I'm stuck trying to get everything done. I've got my mam helping out, and she's been a star, but everything's wrong and Mark won't help. And he keeps disagreeing with everything when I'm trying to sort things out. Like, I stood there looking at cakes for almost an hour before he showed up, and I've got my mam standing there wondering why my fiance isn't there helping me pick out our cake. You know? He's not there for anything. And she keeps looking at me and I can tell she's thinking I'm making a mistake.” He bit his lip. “I'm not making a mistake. I love him, but he's just... he's letting me down and I'm sick of it.”

“He said he was there early.”

“Yeah, I know. But I told him the time this morning, didn't I? And he could have just come with us. I wanted to go have lunch with mam first, but he didn't want to. He never bloody wants to. Like, I go have lunch with his family all the time when they're in town, but he can't come out for a coffee and something to eat for half an hour before we go look at the cake that supposed to be for _our_ wedding. Which she's helping us with. It's not...” He shook his head. “I'm just over it. I want it done, and then I want to go back to our lives.”

“I'm sure he's trying.” Kian suggested.

“No, _I'm_ trying.” Nicky said tersely, his body stiffening in Kian's arms. “What he's doing is farting about and not taking care of things, so I have to do them for him, and then he gets upset when he isn't asked. Well I _did_ ask. I'm not going to stand there waiting for his fucking input when he can't even be bothered to show up.”

“Nicky...”

“No.” Nicky pushed away and stood up. He grabbed his keys off the coffee table. “I'm going for a drive. I can't be bothered...” He headed towards the door, back straighter than normal, his legs barely bending at the knees. There was movement upstairs, Mark was obviously out of the shower. Nicky looked towards the sound, biting his lip. “He's... I love him. But...”

“But...?”

“But... nothing.” Nicky opened the door, walked through it, and shut it behind him. A moment later Mark came down the stairs, a towel wrapped around his shoulders to stop his wet hair dripping on his clean shirt.

“Was that Nicky?”

“Yep.” Kian replied, heading back through to the living room. He put his headphones back on, allowing Mark to sit down on the sofa next to him and lay his head in Kian's lap. He stroked dark hair, looking down at blue eyes that stared into space.

He'd had enough of this shit.

 

*

 

Nicky came in some time later when Mark was already in bed. Kian was sitting on the couch, idly watching a late night talk show and eating some chocolate biscuits he'd found in the back of the pantry.

“Hey.” Nicky said from the hall. Kian turned. He looked pretty worse-for-wear, was standing in the doorway, his eyes red and tired, shirt untucked and wrinkled. “Ehm.”  
  
“Hey, welcome back.” Kian said quietly. He had the TV on low so as not to wake Mark – the boy had looked exhausted when he'd gone up to bed. “Good drive?”

“No, not really.” Nicky sighed, slumping over to collapse on the couch. “I think I behaved like a bit of an arsehole.”

“Did you?” Kian asked. He refused to take sides in this. There was no point, and they were both being idiots anyway. He didn't want to end up having both their ire directed at him instead. “Why's that?”

“Dunno, just...” Nicky looked up at the ceiling, his eyes drawn to the spot where Mark would be. “Is he asleep?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“I shouldn't have shouted at him. Like, I'm annoyed, but I shouldn't have...” He shook his head. “I called him a lot of names I'm not proud of.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I'd be gutted if he said that to me. I feel awful. Did he say anything? Does he hate me?”

“He didn't say anything.” Kian replied, reaching out to squeeze Nicky's knee. “But maybe you should be telling him this instead of me?”

“I don't know that he'd want to hear it.” Kian watched a tear roll down Nicky's cheek. “Can I sleep in with you tonight?”  
  
“Of course you can.” Kian said. “But wouldn't you rather be in with Mark?”

“No, I...” Nicky swallowed. “Not yet. He'll be angry at me and I don't want... god, honestly I'm just scared he'll kick me back out, and at least if I...” He swallowed again, gulping back tears. “Sorry. I just don't want to face it tonight. Please?”

“Of course.” Kian said again. “I'm staying up for a bit, though, so if you want to head up to bed just go straight to mine. Or you can stay here and watch TV.”

“I'll stay.” Nicky decided, snuggling into Kian's shoulder. Kian wrapped an arm around him, smiling when he felt Nicky squeeze his waist. He dropped a kiss onto blonde hair, feeling the stress in the older boy's body. “Sorry.”

Kian shook his head, turning back to the TV. It wasn't him Nicky needed to apologise to.

 

*

 

Breakfast was chilly at best. Mark was already downstairs when Nicky and Kian came down, and he looked up, glancing between the two of them like he was accusing them of something, then looked back into his health-shake like he wanted to strangle it. Kian leant down to kiss him, wanting at least to assuage the obvious concerns Mark was holding, tell him that Nicky had just come up to sleep, but the return kiss felt half-hearted and perfunctory.

Nicky sat down across from Mark, looking at him. Mark glanced up. Nicky looked like he was about to say something, and then didn't, got back up to go put the kettle on. Mark looked away, pushing his shake across the table and reaching out to grab a cold jam donut from the fridge.

“What's the plan for today?” Kian asked. Dead silence was his only answer. “Right, so I'll just do something on my own then, shall I?” They both looked away, Mark chewing slowly on his donut. Nicky was staring at the kettle, watching steam start to float out of the spout, the boiling water the only sound in the room. “Sounds good to me.” He stood up. Looked between the two of them. “And you two can just sit here and act like idiots.” He left the room, heading for the stairs, wanting to go put on some clothes and get the hell out of the house. They needed to spend some time alone, and he needed to be out the door before he throttled one or both of them.

When he came back down, they were at least talking.

“So now he's pissed off at us. Thanks a lot.”

“Oh, it's my fault?” Mark retorted. “Of course it's my fault. It's always my fault.”

“If you'd just...”

Nicky trailed off as he realised Kian was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You two finished?” Kian asked. They both looked away. They were both going red, though whether it was through embarrassment or anger he wasn't sure. “You know, I'm not sure why you're getting married, really. Seeing as you both obviously hate each other so much.”

“I...” Mark started, but then he sighed, shaking his head. Nicky got up, heading for the stairs. He stomped up. Mark watched him go, then stood up to follow. Kian watched him disappear.

Then Nicky started to shout.

Kian shook his head and walked out, slamming the door hard enough that he hoped they could hear it.

 

*

 

He didn't know where he was going really, so he ended up at the beach. He didn't have his board with him and he headed up to the surf club to get a rental, which wasn't exactly in good condition but would have to do, even if he did miss his own board. He paddled out, finding a spot over to the side where the waves weren't exactly great but the swell was calming. The sun was out, drifting between banks of loose, white clouds, and he let himself drift in it for a bit, feeling his skin warm.

It was nice out here. Quiet. He snorted a laugh. He wondered what Mark and Nicky were doing now, whether they were still screeching at each other like bats, or if they had stomped off into opposite corners of the room yet. If Nicky had gotten around to apologising for insulting Mark the day before, if Mark was evening the score. God, it was so weird. They didn't fight. They'd had a couple of squabbles over the years, but since Kian had been living with them they'd been more or less loved up, always snuggling and making out at random, inappropriate moments.

This wasn't even just arguing. They weren't even fighting _over_ anything. It was like they were testing each other, seeing how far the other one could be pushed before they'd just walk out. The last few fights had been stonkers, but they'd always ended up making up the next morning and were back to their over-affectionate selves by midday, things staying peaceful for sometimes days at a time. This particular fight had gone on for over twenty-four hours now, had been brewing for days, even before the scene with the cake, and Kian wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. If he was even supposed to do anything. They just wouldn't _talk_ to each other, and Kian couldn't make them.

He paddled over to where some smaller waves were breaking and caught one, veering sideways to avoid a drift of other surfers lined up in the swell. It petered out pretty quickly, so he headed back out, waiting patiently for another one. The surf wasn't exactly impressive, but he liked the solitude. This always calmed him, made everything else feel smaller.

It was... disconcerting. He didn't like that they were fighting. This relationship was based on them loving each other, on both of them loving him, and if they were to.... God, he didn't even like to think it, but it needed to be considered... if they were to break up he didn't know what he was supposed to do. Where he stood. If they broke up with each other, did that meant things would end with him too? Would the whole thing be ripped out from under him because they couldn't get over whatever their stupid hangups were? He didn't hate them, he wasn't fighting with them, but it felt like this was his fight too.

And if they did break up, would he stay with both of them? Be a boyfriend to both of them while they were at each other's throats? He'd been with them for over two years now, considered both of them more than just a boyfriend. They were his partners, his lovers, his best damn friends. What was he supposed to do about that? Was he supposed to pick just one? Would either of them even want to stay with him, if they were losing the other too, or would they want to make a clean break? He didn't know if he liked the idea of starting all over again. He wouldn't say he considered them a forever thing – it would be naïve to think this arrangement was something that could necessarily last forever, though Kian did sort of hope it would. Or at least that it would run its course before he naturally moved on to other things, or they did.

He didn't want to have to choose between them. He didn't know how to even begin to make that decision.

He didn't want this to rip them apart. Not just them, but the band as well. This could be the end of everything, if they couldn't learn to get along with each other.

He didn't want this whole thing falling apart because they were bickering over who had been late to taste wedding cake.

He stayed out longer than he meant to, until the sun was high in the sky and he felt himself start to burn a little bit and his stomach protest the lack of breakfast.

He paddled back in, returned the board, and headed for home.

 

*

 

When he got back in, Nicky and Mark were making out on the couch.

Kian smiled, feeling a rush of relief run through him. He'd known they'd sort it out, eventually, but the uncertain knot in his stomach was starting to loosen at the sight of Nicky pulling Mark down on top of him, their mouths sliding slowly together, hands linked between them. Mark had his free hand up under Nicky's shirt, stroking his belly, and Nicky was letting out hiccuping little moans, his body rolling against his fiance's.

Kian snuck past, knowing that they had barely registered his presence. He tread lightly up the stairs, looking to give them some space. Normally he'd get involved, but this wasn't about him, this was about them and whatever crap they were working through, and it seemed they'd worked through it for now.

When he came back down, having dithered about reading a book on his bed and taking a shower, they were snuggled up on the couch, Nicky asleep under Mark's arm, the younger boy flicking through channels and stroking his hair.

“Hey.” Mark whispered, looking up when Kian sank down into the armchair nearby. “When did you get in?”

“About an hour ago.” Kian replied quietly, looking down at the sleeping man on the seat across from him. “You two looked busy so I didn't interrupt.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Mark's cheeks reddened slightly, and he glanced down at Nicky fondly. “Sorry about earlier.”  
  
“It's okay.” Kian assured him. Mark settled on a channel, the volume turned down slightly so as not to wake his sleeping fiance. They stared at an afternoon lifestyle show for a bit, watching the hosts explain how to turn a garden hose into a rather fetching water feature. It was painfully boring. Kian looked back at the two on the couch, smiling when Mark bent down to kiss Nicky's cheek. “Everything okay now?”

“Yeah, we had a chat.” Mark said. “I don't know. He apologised for some things. I apologised for some things.” He shrugged. “We both said some pretty awful things. I'm a bit ashamed of myself, basically.” He kissed Nicky's hair. “I didn't even mean it, not really. I just love him so much I... I think it hurt more because I never expected him to say those things to me either.” He kissed Nicky's cheek again, then his hair, then his ear, peppering kisses all over the skin he could reach. Kian realised with a start that Mark had tears standing in his eyes.

“You okay?” Kian asked.

“Yeah.” Mark whispered, pulling away and beginning to stroke Nick's arm again. He wiped his eyes, looking down at the man against his side. “Sorry. This wedding thing's just getting to me. I'm trying my best, but...” He shook his head. “I'm trying to help, but it always feels like Nicky's one step ahead, and by the time I catch up I've already let him down.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Sort of. I didn't want to stress him out more, but I don't want him feeling like he has to tell me what to do, because then he thinks I don't care. And I do. But like... it doesn't matter to me what colour the flowers are. I just want him, you know? But he cares, and he and his mam... they're just so organised and every time she looks at me I feel like I'm letting Nicky down. Like this is their wedding, and I'm ruining it.”

Kian laughed. He couldn't help himself. “He's not marrying his mam. He's marrying you.”

“Yeah.” Mark said. “I know.” He looked up at Kian. “She... I don't think she's ever quite thought I was good enough, you know? Like, I don't think she quite wanted him to be gay. Not that she's homophobic, but I think she's almost... trying to make this the way she wants it, you know? So she can feel like she's got some kind of control over the situation, even if she couldn't control who he was marrying. And he adores her, he wants to please her, so I do too. But...” He sighed. “Sorry, this isn't your problem.”

“It's fine.” Kian said, resisting the urge to go over and hug the obviously self-conscious boy on the couch. He didn't want to wake up Nicky, but Mark looked so small. So different to how open and brave and confident he usually was. This was worse than the awkward Mark on the telly, the one who was still friendly and sweet but a bit shy. This Mark looked like he was shrinking away to nothing. “Does he know?”

“I think... he tries to please her a bit. Like, he knows she's never been quite comfortable with it. She tries, I know she does, and she loves him. But whenever I mention it he just gets upset. And it's been okay until now, just seeing her every now and then, or at family things, but she's there all the time now, and I don't want to disagree with her on things, but this is my wedding too and I feel like I'm getting pushed out. Or saying yes when I don't want to. I appreciate the help, but I don't know how to tell him to get her to back off. So we fight about other things, like the bloody cake. I didn't even mind the cake they picked, you know? It was fine. But I didn't get to pick it, and he was blaming me, so...”

“...things kicked off?”

“Yeah.” Mark agreed. He rubbed his eyes with the hand that wasn't on Nicky's shoulder. “God, I'm tired.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No. I don't know.” Mark gave him a smile that, while tiny, was at least genuine. “I'm really sorry about before. I didn't mean to upset you. He didn't either. It wasn't fair.”

“It's fine. I went surfing for a bit. Chilled out.”

“Okay.” Nicky was stirring against Mark's side. He slid down a bit, still asleep, and laid his head in Mark's lap, curling his hands under his face. He yawned, then settled back in again, his eyes not opening. “God, I love him.”

“I know.” Kian smiled, reaching across to take Mark's hand. It was squeezed gently, Mark's fingers entwining with his, their hands hanging in the air between them. After a minute, Kian's arm began to get a bit tired, so he went over to sit at Mark's feet, relinking their hands on his own shoulder. Mark kissed his hair, moving slowly so as not to dislodge Nicky. “As long as you lads are okay.”

“I think we are, yeah.” Mark said quietly, squeezing Kian's hand. “It'll be fine.”

 

*

 

“Mark, we're late!” Nicky was standing in the front hall, his foot tapping impatiently on the tiles. “What are you doing?”

“I'm coming! I just can't find...” Mark's voice was muffled. There was a thud upstairs as something dropped. Kian went to investigate, leaving Nicky standing in the hall. He found Mark rummaging in the bottom of the wardrobe, tossing clothes behind him like a mole digging a tunnel.

“Need a hand?”

“Yeah, can't find my good jacket.” Mark grumbled.

“Which one's the good one?” Kian began to idly pick through the pile of clothes behind Mark, not sure what he was looking for.

“The... you know the leather one? With the buttons? I don't...” Mark stood up, beginning to slide hangers aside, one-by-one. “Fuck. Where is it?”  
  
“What about this one? This one's nice.” Kian held up a blue blazer that Mark always looked fairly delicious in. “It'll go with your shirt.”  
  
“Yeah, I dunno. I just... she said she liked it last time, you know? I just thought...”  
  
“Nicky's mam?”

“Yeah.” Mark reached the end of the rail, then began to slide the hangers back the other way, in case he'd missed one. “I don't know. I can't fucking find it.”  
  
“Marky.” Kian put a hand out, stopping him. Mark turned, his teeth worrying his bottom lip, and Kian smiled fondly at the obvious panic there. “Calm down, yeah? Nicky's waiting for you. He doesn't care what jacket you wear. She probably doesn't either. What are you doing today?”

“Catering. Just... looking at appetisers and that, you know? Not that I should be fucking eating anything. I accidentally did two bags of Revels last night. I won't even fit into the fucking jacket, even if I do find it...

“Marky.” Kian said again. He held a hand up, stopping Mark's rambling. “Put this on, go downstairs.” He handed Mark the blazer. “You look lovely, alright?”

“You don't have to...”

Kian rolled his eyes, leaning in to press his lips to Mark's. There was resistance for a minute, but after a second trembling hands came up to rest on his shoulders, mouth opening under Kian's tongue. Kian rubbed his back gently, feeling Mark relax a little bit into the kiss.

“MARK! HURRY THE FUCK UP!”

“He'll be down in a minute, Nicky!” Kian called back, earning a grateful look from the brunette in his arms. “Go on. Get something you know I'd like, yeah? I don't want to be eating anything weird when I'm trying to get drunk at the reception.” Mark nodded, shrugging on the jacket he'd been handed. “It's fine. Just say what you mean, butter her up a bit, and don't start any fights.”

“I'm sorry...”

“Go.” Kian pointed at the door. Mark hesitated, then ran for the door. By the time Kian got downstairs, the front door was just closing.

He sighed, and went to collapse on the couch.

God, those two were exhausting.

 

*

 

They came back in reasonably high spirits, which was a bloody relief and a half. Mark was quiet, but Nicky seemed to be in a far better mood, gabbing along as he usually did, his hand on Mark's back as they came through the door. Kian looked up, laughing when Nicky dropped onto the couch next to him and pecked his cheek, Mark sinking down into the armchair.

“How'd it go?”

“Good.” Nicky grinned. “Mains are beef, chicken, or vegetarian. Got some nice appetisers too. These really cute little quiche things we both liked.” He glanced at Mark. “Bit of a compromise. Mark was eyeing off these little noodle cups, but they had peanuts in and who needs the allergy drama? So we went with the sweet chilli spring rolls instead.”

“I liked the noodles.” Mark said quietly.

“I know you did. I did too.” Nicky explained, sounding too patient for his own good. Even Kian winced at the slight patronising lilt to his voice. “But you want someone's cousin exploding into hives in the middle of the thing? It's just too much of a hassle.”

“The salad had pinenuts, though.”  
  
“Yeah, well...” Nicky trailed off, looking like he didn't have much of a defence and not caring. “And mam found these really good little salmon cracker things as well, so we got those.”

Mark didn't respond. Kian looked over, catching the downcast stare. Mark hated fish. It had been a long-time joke between them. He was scared of birds, he hated eating fish... him being gay was practically pathological. Nicky knew it, too, was always checking the menu at seafood places to make sure there was a steak or something that Mark could eat. Making sure he was taken care of, and that he was happy.

“I didn't think Mark liked fish.” He hedged. “What are you going to eat, then?”

“He can have the spring rolls and the quiche.” Nicky interrupted.

“The spring rolls have prawns in them.” Mary whispered. Then he stood up. “I'm going to have a nap. I'm tired.” He disappeared up the stairs, feet so quiet they barely sounded like they had any weight to them, like Mark was totally inconsequential. Kian looked back at Nicky, who was shaking his head.

“God, he's been like this all day.” Nicky sighed. “I don't know what's wrong. He barely even tried half of it! The only thing he ate was the bloody noodles.”

“He doesn't eat seafood, you know that.” Kian said gently. Nicky shrugged. “Come on, Nix. You couldn't have got him the noodles?”

“There's people on my side with allergies! I can't just...” Nicky ran a hand down his face, letting out a frustrated breath. “Fuck sake. He's being so fucking unhelpful.”

“Nicky...” Kian put a hand on his knee. “Come on, it's not really fair to blame him for that. It's his wedding too. He's trying his best.”

“So why can't he just _help_?” Nicky groaned. “Fuck, he barely said two words all day, except to say he didn't like something. And mam's being so organised, finding all this perfectly fine food, and helping with the venue and the reception and that. We've done everything, and Mark's just fucking... sulking.” He stood up, beginning to pace a little bit. “I'm just so _done_ with this. It's not fucking worth it. Mam's right, we're rushing into this. I don't even know why we're getting...” He trailed off, putting a hand over his mouth as though to stop what he'd just said. “Shit.” He whispered.

“Nix...”

“Shit.” Nicky said again, sinking back onto the couch. “I really didn't mean that.”  
  
“Your mam thinks you're rushing into it?”

“No. Well... I mean, she was a bit unsure at the beginning there, but then she offered to help out so I thought it'd be a good way to... keep the peace like. Like, if she spent some  _ time _ with Mark, she'd come round. She's met him a bunch of times, but they don't really know each other. Not that's he's helped anything, acting like a spoilt brat about everything...” Nicky shook his head. “Fuck.”

“Right...” Kian put a hand on his knee. “Nicky... apart from doing the actual proposing, what has Mark actually chosen for this wedding?”

“Ehm... well, he helped pick the table settings. I mean, he wanted these blue plates, but then we found some yellow ones that mam said would go great with the table cloths so...” He trailed off. “Er... there was the quiche today. He didn't hate that.” Nicky slumped forward, resting his chin in his hands. “He could have helped pick the cake if he'd shown up on time.”

“Right. And where's the reception?”

“Oh, we booked this really nice ballroom in town. I was gonna take Mark in to show him after the cake, but then we had that fight...” Nicky bit his lip. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Kian agreed. “Do you really think it's that strange that he's getting upset? You know he thinks your mam hates him?”

“We've been over this! She doesn't  _ hate _ him! She just... she wants me to be happy and she doesn't understand... you know. I mean, I'm happy with Mark. I know life'd be easier if I was with a girl, but she understands that. She knows I love Mark. If he'd just try to...” Nicky shook his head. “Fuck, I've been an idiot, haven't I?”

“No...” Kian squeezed his knee, thinking that had been a bit of a fib. Of  _ course _ Nicky had been an idiot, but it was just as much Mark's fault for not talking to Nicky about it. He wondered, idly, if they would have ever sorted this out had he not been here, if they would have just ended up sulking their way out of a perfectly good relationship. “Why don't you go talk to Mark?”

“Yeah.” Nicky stood back up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I... yeah.” He headed towards the stairs, his feet heavy in comparison to Mark's own footsteps a few minutes earlier. He looked up, then glanced at Kian. “I really don't want to fight again.”

“So don't.” Kian urged. “What did you do wrong?”

“I... forced him out of his own wedding because I was trying too hard to please my mother.” Nicky went red, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Oh god, that sounds awful. Fuck.”

“And what are you going to do to make it right?”

“I don't know.” Nicky bit his lip. “I can't just shove her out of everything. I don't want her to hate me.”

“She's your mother, just tell her you want to plan this together. Do you want to plan this with Mark?”

“Yes...” Nicky said. “I just don't know how to! She's just so organised. I've never had to do this on my own.”

“So let Mark do it. I'll help, alright?”

“You know how to plan a wedding?”

“Not a clue.” Kian admitted. “But I'm sure we can muddle it out. You've already done half the work, right?”  
  
“Right, yeah.” Nicky nodded, looking up the stairs again. “Right.”

“So go tell him that, you idiot.”

Nicky nodded again, his feet heavy as he climbed the stairs.

 

*

 

When Kian checked on them later they were all snuggled up together, Mark spooned around Nicky while they slept on the bed together. For a second, he considered cuddling up with them, but then decided against him. As nice as it looked, this was their moment and Kian didn't want to intrude. As he watched, Mark kissed the back of Nicky's neck, then opened his eyes, noticing that Kian was there. He lifted his hand from Nicky's stomach in a slight wave, which Kian returned, smiling.

“Thanks.” Mark whispered. Kian nodded, closing the door behind himself on the way back downstairs.

 

*

 

Kian did not like planning weddings. They'd been doing this for four days now. Nicky's mother had called a few times, but he'd fobbed her off with excuses and the three of them had gone to do the wedding cakes again. Mark had smiled through the whole thing, had laughed when Nicky had fed him chunks of sponge cake. They argued over fillings for a bit, then agreed on a towering chocolate cake with raspberry icing and passionfruit flowers.

He drove them around while they looked at venues. It was exhausting. If it wasn't for the sweet, loved-up looks on their faces he would have thrown in the towel by now. He thought he understood why they'd gotten so stressed – he was about ready to start snapping at people too, especially after watching them bicker for twenty minutes over whether they wanted their mothers or fathers to give them away. They'd decided on both in the end, which Kian knew they would, and then not ten minutes later had started arguing over who got to come down the aisle first.

“Okay, so...” Kian had made a checklist. He'd had to. The two of them honestly had no idea what they were doing. “That's cake, catering, flowers...” He ran his finger down the list. They were sat at the kitchen table, the seating chart rolled up to the side and taunting him. “Band's booked.” He glanced at Nicky, who nodded. Mark had suggested a group he'd seen supporting a friend's band at a club a few weeks before. They weren't really wedding band style, but they seemed like nice guys and Mark was sure they could pull it off, so Nicky had agreed. “Limo's booked. Reception venue?”

“I liked the one with the light-up floor. It was really cool.” Nicky said, leaning into Mark's shoulder. They'd been all over each other since Kian and Nicky had had that chat the other day, and it was nice. He'd kept his distance a bit, let them settle back into each other, though it was a bit difficult hearing them shagging early that morning and trying not to go in and interrupt. He hadn't been laid in over two weeks, not since all this craziness had kicked off, and he was starting to get a bit... antsy, if he was honest.

Not that he hadn't jerked off when he'd heard Mark cry out, heard the rhythmic slap of flesh and breathless, shuddering groans that could have only been Nicky getting fucked hard. Kian had almost been able to see it in his minds eye, knew Nicky's legs would be around Mark's waist, knew the creak of Mark's knees shifting on the bed. He'd stroked himself hard, biting his lip when he heard Mark moan, Nicky's delighted squeal.

“Is that the one with the glass ceiling? The one on the river? I really liked that one.”  
  
“No, that was the other one.” Nicky pursed his lips. “This was the one with the gardens and the big staircase.” He reached under the table to take Mark's hand. “Up to you. I want you to be happy.”

“I picked the band, though.” Mark shook his head. “The river was nice, but if you want the light-up floor we can do that.” He kissed Nicky's cheek. “Wherever you want. As long as you're there, I don't mind.”

Nicky nodded, turning and catching his lips. Kian watched, feeling a little ignored. He knew they were getting married and all, but he'd felt totally platonic the last few weeks. He'd been a therapist, a chauffeur, a wedding planner, a free bed...

“Shall I leave you to it?” He forced himself to laugh, if only to hide how left out he was starting to feel. Was this what it was going to be like when they got married? All over each other, forgetting he even existed? They were going on honeymoon, of course, without him for two weeks, and that was fine. He'd miss them, but that was fine. He just hoped they'd at least miss him back a little bit.

Nicky looked up. “Stay. We need to pick a venue.” He kissed Mark again, moaning softly when hands tangled in his hair. They separated after a moment, licking their lips. Nicky reached over, grabbing the stack of brochures Kian had piled up. He shuffled through them, pulling out one and holding it up. “This is the one you like?”

Mark nodded. “It's fine, though, if you want the other one.”  
  
Nicky handed the brochure to Kian. “We're having it there. Write it down.” He kissed Mark again, covering a content smile that was starting to edge over his fiance's face. Kian nodded, scribbling it down on the list, then picked up his phone to call the ballroom Mark had selected. They were busy trying to eat each others' faces, so wouldn't notice him leaving the room for a bit. He headed into the living room, so as not to disturb them.

By the time he came back they appeared to have disentangled themselves. Nicky was up putting the kettle on and Mark was squinting at the checklist.

“Wedding party?”

“Yeah. You know, ushers and flower girl and ring bearer and that. Groomsmen. You know.”

“Oh right, well my brothers can be groomsmen.” Mark looked at Nicky. “Your brother as well?”

“Yeah, definitely. You just want the usual, or?”

“Yeah, no sugar though.” Nicky glanced around, surprised, and Mark bit his lip over a smile. “One sugar.” He conceded. Kian snorted, reaching out to stroke the back of his hand.

“Don't worry. You're totally gorgeous. Like, honestly, the fact that you even have clothes on right now is a crime.”

“I'd agree with that.” Nicky turned back, placing a mug down in front of each of them. “Except I'm sort of glad you do have clothes on, or we'd never get anything done.” He leaned down to kiss Mark, his lips brushing a bashful smile. “Seriously sexy, you are.” He turned back to pick up his own tea, ruffling Mark's hair as he pulled away. “Anyway, best mates as usual. Skinner, Cos, Paul...” He shrugged. “Marky, you want Rowen, yeah?”

“Yeah, and Jason. You know, the Sligo crew. That's four each.” Mark tapped his chin, thinking. “Um... Nicole for flower girl? Shane'd like that. Ringbearer... your nephew?”

“Yeah, I'll ask Gill. Ushers... cousins?”

“Cousins.” Mark agreed. “Just whoever's not going to act like a rude shit.” He looked at Kian, who was scribbling furiously, trying to get it all down so he could make a start on organising it. His hand already hurt from writing. “Is that everyone?”

“Best man.” Kian suggested.

“You.” They both said together, then laughed, looking at each other. Kian felt his heart swell. A flush broke out on his cheeks when they both stared at each other, Nicky beginning to pout.

“I thought you'd have Shane!” Nicky exclaimed.

“I thought _you'd_ have Shane.” Mark replied. “He's your best friend.”

“You've known him longer.”

“You can't have Kian. He's my boyfriend.”  
  
“He's _my_ boyfriend!” Nicky retorted. He looked at Kian, who was trying not to look like he was stuck between floating on the ceiling with pride and crawling under the table to avoid the conflict he knew was inevitably going to break out. “Who do you want?”

“Oh no!” Kian raised his hands in surrender. “I'm not making this decision for you! Anyway, should I be anyone's best man? I'm your boyfriend. That's just... weird.” He laughed, looking between them. “I'm flattered, I really am, but...”  
  
“But you're like... the best man that we know.” Mark said. “It's right there in the job description.” He bit his lip, looking at Nicky. “I'll take Shane. You were in love with Kian first, so you get dibs.”

“Dibs?” Kian laughed. “I'm not the last jammie dodger. I'm offended, you know.”

“No you're not.” Nicky dismissed him. “If you were getting married, who would you pick as _your_ best man?”

“Um... neither of you. You'd both be useless at organising the bachelor party. You can't even organise a wedding.” Kian kicked out under the table, catching Nicky lightly in the knee.

“I'd get you strippers and everything!” Nicky protested. “Like, really filthy ones. Guys, girls... you pick!”  
  
“Yeah, thanks Nix.” Kian rolled his eyes. That wasn't his thing at all. And why the hell did he need strippers when he had these two? “You gonna get a smoke machine and a mirror-ball too?”

“I'd take you camping.” Mark said, crossing his arms and looking triumphantly at Nicky. “Hang out in the middle of nowhere, pitch a tent, and shag under the stars.” He glanced at Nicky, who was starting to wrinkle his nose in disapproval. Kian laughed. That did sound lovely, actually, much better than Nicky's stripper idea.

“I'd book out the penthouse suite of a hotel room, order room service, and eat it off you. Then I'd let you fuck me in the spa. Like, for hours, until you've come so many times you can't get it up for a week.” Nicky grinned, raising a challenging eyebrow at Mark.

Shit, that sounded quite nice too.

“I'd take you skydiving.” Mark raised an eyebrow back.

“You'd go skydiving?” Kian asked, surprised.

“No, I'd stand on the ground and watch.” Mark shrugged.

“I'd go skydiving with you.” Nicky offered.

“You can't even get in a lift!”

“That's different.” Nicky looked at Kian, pouting. “I'd jump out of a plane for you.”  
  
“Yeah, well so would I!”

“You just said...”

“Stop!” Kian held up a hand, the other one coming over his mouth to hide the laughter that was about to burst out. “Jesus, I'm not even getting married! Who's this imaginary person I'm marrying, anyway?”

There was silence for a minute. Nicky looked at Mark. Mark looked at Nicky.

“Ehm...” Nicky shrugged. “Dunno.”

Mark shrugged too, looking down at the table. “Erm...” He looked up, his eyes shy. “You're not seeing anyone behind our backs, yeah?”

“Not that I'm aware of.” Kian smiled fondly at both of them. They were gorgeous when they worked themselves up into a state. “Would you be upset if I was?”  
  
“Little bit, yeah.” Nicky admitted. “Quite a bit, actually.” He tilted his head to the side, studying Kian. “I haven't shagged you in a while, have I?”

“Not recently, no.” Kian smiled, loving the confusion on Nicky's face. “You've been a bit caught up with shouting at each other. He glanced at Mark. “Both of you.”

“Oh.” Nicky said quietly. “I'll give you a blowjob if you'll be my best man?”

“Right...” Kian glanced at Mark, who had opened his mouth to say something before Nicky had interrupted. “What were you going to say?”

“That... um... I'd fuck you right now if you'll be my best man?”

“Right, well...” Kian stood up, looking at both of them. He realised he'd never touched his tea. “Those both sound fantastic.” He pointed at the ceiling. “First one upstairs?”

 

*

 

“Oh... oh fuck.” Kian gasped, looking down at the mouth wrapped around him. Nicky smirked, sinking lower on his shaft, his eyes bright with lust. Mark was behind him, pushing fingers into his arse and biting his shoulder. “Oh...” He gasped again, trying to push backwards and forwards at the same time, the pressure too intense.

“Mine.” He heard Mark growl, hot brush rushing over his ear. It was true. Mark had played dirty, that wasn't at all disputable, but Kian wasn't at all complaining, even if Nicky's shoulder probably hurt from being shoved into the stairwell wall. He'd had it coming though, especially after tripping Mark at the bottom of the staircase. Then a hand had come out to wrap around his ankle and Mark had scrambled up, shoving past him and reaching the landing well in advance. Kian had stood at the bottom, laughing his arse off while Nicky had clambered to his feet, shouting Mark's name. It was too late though, Mark was already in the bedroom with his trousers around his ankles when the two blondes reached him.

And now Kian was knelt on the bed, watching Nicky suck his dick.

“Jesus.” He breathed, reaching down to wrap his hand in soft blonde hair. Nicky looked up, his eyes dark and greedy. Losing hadn't put him off at all, he was growling hungrily, bobbing up and down, his tongue massaging playfully while Kian's hips bucked. Fingers brushed his prostate and he moaned, grinding back.

“Fuck me...” He pleaded. God, it had been too long. Mark's touch, usually overwhelming at the best of times, was totally pulling him apart with need, the play of fingers inside him too much to bear. “God, Mark...” Teeth trailed lightly up his shaft and he shuddered. “Nicky... fuck....” He gulped in a breath. “Oh god...” He closed his eyes, trying to ground himself, felt the fingers pull out. Then Mark was pressing in, stretching him wide and it was taking all his strength to keep himself from collapsing forward onto Nicky. A hand reached around him, squeezing his nipple while Mark panted on his shoulder, nuzzling into Kian's neck.

“So tight.” Mark whispered. “God, Kian, I...” He pushed forward a little bit, then drew back. “God I missed you.”  
  
Kian felt tears prick his eyes, though he wasn't sure if it was Mark's words or the overwhelming pleasure of both of them that was doing it.

“I missed you too.” He replied honestly. “God you feel good.” He looked down at sparkling blue eyes. “Both of you.” Fingers pushed under to rub behind his balls. He arched into it, feeling his whole body seize up with joy. “Fuck... Nicky...” He muttered, trying to ground himself. It was too much, though. Too much from every direction. Fingers plucking at his nipples, Mark filling him, Nicky rolling his balls between clever fingers, Mark's teeth on his neck, Nicky's mouth pulling off slightly then plunging back down, throat convulsing around him.

“You gonna come, babe?” Mark murmured, licking his ear. “You gonna come for me?”

“Mark...” Kian gasped, pushing back. “Oh...” He sucked in a breath, trying to stop the inevitable. “Oh god I...” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus. Too much. “It's been too long. I can't...”  
  
“Shhh...” Mark's hands stroked down until Kian felt his stomach muscles leap under a teasing touch. “I want you to come. Want to see you come in his mouth.” He bit the shell of Kian's ear, then soothed it with his tongue. “Don't you want that?”

“Yes.” Kian panted, looking down at a challenging gaze that met his, Nicky's eyes filled with love. “Nix...”

Nicky pulled off to lick around the head, his tongue flicking, clever and teasing.

“Wanna taste you.” He urged before he sank back down. Kian whimpered, pushing forward. Pushing back. God, it was too much. They were too much. His entire world, surrounding him.

“I love you.” Mark whispered. “Mine.”

Kian couldn't help it. He came screaming Mark's name, his fingers tangled in Nicky's hair while that throat gulped him down faster than he could fill it.

“Oh... Jesus.” He muttered as he was released, Nicky climbing up to kiss Mark, his hand collecting Kian's and pressing it to hard, beating flesh.

“Nicky...” He heard Mark pant, his arm sandwiching the three of them together. “Oh god, Kian...” Nicky moaned, leaving Mark's lips to attack Kian's. Kian accepted, the kiss merging with the feeling of Mark still fucking him, the sensation wrapping around him and making him wish he had the energy to come again. He felt amazing, pinned between the two of them. Needed. Wanted. Stroking Nicky and hearing the whining moans, feeling the way his thrusts were becoming ragged and uncoordinated. Fingers were gripping his hair, Nicky's whole body arching into the stroke.

“Soon...” Nicky whimpered. Kian laughed, bending forward onto his hands and knees, pushing Nicky back slightly. The angle shifted, and he cried out at the change in pressure, hearing Mark echo it behind him. He took Nicky in his mouth, groaning as he sank down, having not realised how much he missed the taste, the feel. Fingers traced his jaw, Nicky's hips bucking up when he grazed the head with his teeth.

“Kian...” Mark groaned, his hand closing on Kian's arse in a hard grip, holding him still. The pressure was enormous, Kian's cock beginning to harden again already under the relentless contact with his prostate. “That's it. Christ.” His other hand ran down Kian's side, making him shiver as strong fingers played over his ribs. “You're gonna make me come.”

Nicky surged, becoming impossibly harder, almost choking him, and Kian pulled back a little bit, the taste becoming hotter, wetter, more sweet in his mouth.

“Fuck.” Nicky whimpered. “Oh fuck.”

And then they were both coming. Filling him up. Hands everywhere. Holding him. Stroking him. Pulling him close and leaving marks on his skin. Desperate marks of love, of ownership, of... everything that made Kian want to belong to them.

He swallowed fast, trying not to break away even as he ran out of air. Trying to breathe through his nose, trying to listen to both their cries, trying to focus on the feeling, the pressure, the utter... want. Comfort. Perfection.

They both pulled out carefully, the sudden vacancy making Kian feel utterly bereft. The he was being gathered up, held in arms that enveloped him in unflinching affection. Kisses in his hair. Hands on his skin. Someone's knees curled up against his arse, which was a bit weird.

“I love you.” Mark said softly. Kian smiled, pressing back.

“I love you more.” Nicky kissed his forehead.

“It's not a competition.” Kian mumbled, closing his eyes and letting himself sink into their warmth.

 

*

 

“Your mouth...” Nicky murmured. “Is fucking beautiful.”  
  
“Erm... thanks.” Kian attempted. He was laid back between Mark's legs, head on a broad chest while Nicky lay between his own legs, on his front and looking up. He giggled when Nicky buried his face into the soft flesh of his stomach, blowing a raspberry. Mark laughed, kissing his ear.

“This is nice.” He said, reaching around Kian to run his hand through Nicky's hair. “I think this is about the first time I've relaxed properly in weeks.” Kisses fluttered over Kian's ear again. “What do we have left to do?”

“Right...” Kian leaned over the side of the sofa, scooping the checklist up off the floor. He'd been looking through it when Mark had motioned him over to sit down, then Nicky had gotten lonely so had come over too. Then there'd been kissing, and the clipboard had slipped unheeded onto the floor at fairly short notice. “Venue.”

“Done.” Nicky nodded, looking fondly up at Mark.

“Cake.”

“Done.” Mark nodded.

“Wedding party.”

“Done.” Mark kissed Kian's cheek, squeezing him round the waist possessively. “I won.”

“Don't let Shane hear you say that.” Kian snorted, ruffling Nicky's hair to assuage the pout that was beginning to crawl over his face. “You called him yet?”

“I'll ask him Monday.” Nicky yawned, stretching a little. They were going back in next week to start rehearsals for the new tour. Kian was already buzzing for it, they all were. Ten year anniversary tour, a night at Croke Park... and if Kian thought about that too much, he was probably going to throw up in his hands. Then a year off. A whole fucking _year_ , kicking off with Mark and Nicky's wedding. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with himself, thought he might go travelling for a bit, check out some surf spots in Asia and South America. His boys would be going on their honeymoon, then would probably want to spend a bit of time together.

Kian hadn't mentioned it to them yet, he didn't want them feeling obligated to... he didn't know what. Comfort him. Overcompensate maybe. Ask him to stay. He didn't want them to feel guilty about wanting to spend the rest of their lives together. He knew he'd miss the hell out of them, but he didn't want to come between them, not now when they were just getting their lives started.

“Invitations.”

“We'll start them tonight.” Nicky said. “Ehm... I was wondering, and you can say no if you want... should I invite mam around to help us with them?” Kian felt Mark tense under him. “I know, but we've cut her out for the last few days and this might be a way to make her feel involved without...” He shrugged. “We can invite your mam too if you like? Get a bottle of wine? Get everyone involved, maybe?”

“My mam's up in Sligo. She's not going to come down just to help write up wedding invitations. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Okay, well... what about Saturday night?” Nicky asked. “Have them down for the weekend, your mam and dad. We'll get my folks round, make an evening of it.”

“You can put them up in the spare. I'll sleep on the couch.” Kian offered.

“You can kip in with us.”

“Nix, I think they'll wonder why I'm in your bed when there's a perfectly good couch right here.” He patted the seat for emphasis. “They already think it's weird I've been living with you for almost two years when I'm actually quite rich and famous and don't have to crash in your spare room.”

“You're famous?” Mark teased. “I thought it was just me.”

“Nobody'd know who you were if you weren't so fucking noisy.” Kian retorted. “They'd be asking who the weird tall guy is, lurking in the background in photos of that good-looking three-piece vocal group.”

“I'll remember that next time Shane switches your microphone off and you don't notice.” Mark bit his ear a little too hard while Nicky laughed.

“You're both delusional.” He said, sitting up. “The fans only come for me, anyway.”

“Because they think you might get your pants down at some point.”

“...I'm really not sure how that's an insult.” Nicky winked, grabbing his rather impressive crotch. “I'd rather be known for this than that bald-spot you've got coming in.”

“Oi!” Kian launched himself at the blonde, giggling when Mark pounced, the three of them rolling off the sofa in a tangle, the air forced out of his chest when Mark landed on top of him.

He ended up with his head pillowed on Nicky's groin, Mark's hand entwined with his.

“I'll call my mam.” Mark said finally. “But you better get a lot of wine.”

 

*

 

Mark's parents showed up around lunchtime on Saturday. They'd taken the train down, and appeared to have far too much luggage for people who were only staying one night.

Kian had vacated his own room that morning, giving the whole place a quick once-over to make sure there was nothing incriminating. He didn't think there would be – they didn't tend to make much use of Kian's bed when Nicky and Mark had the king-size, but it wasn't unheard of and a he didn't want to take any chances. The last time they'd ended up in Kian's room there had been quite liberal use of a vibrator Nicky had come across and liked because it was in the Leeds United colours. Not that it mattered what colour it was by the time Kian bent Nicky over and fucked him with it, but there was no explaining sentimentality.

So, after a last-minute check under the bed, he ran downstairs to greet Marie and Oliver, helped them get their bags to his room and accepted hugs and enquiries as to whether he'd been eating enough lately because he'd looked quite thin on the telly the other day, and as long as he was taking care of himself.

Kian got lunch together, mostly just to get out of the room. Not that he didn't like them. He did. He'd known them more or less since he was twelve. But they seemed to be quite caught up with Mark and Nicky and he didn't want to intrude when they'd come all this way to see the happy couple. They seemed to adore Nicky – Oliver kept talking to him about football, and Marie wanted to know everything about how the wedding preparations were going.

“Fantastic. Kian's been a huge help.” Nicky said as Kian was bringing out a plate of sandwiches. It was odd – the three of them were usually quite good at hiding their slightly unconventional relationship, but there was something about being in their own home that made him forget to keep the camouflage up. He kept having to remind himself not to kiss Nicky when he handed him a cup of tea, for instance.

It wasn't just him either. When he sat down next to Mark on the couch he saw the younger man's hand lift to rest on his thigh, then pull back at the last minute. It was hard, too, when his boyfriends were being so natural – not over the top, Mark's parents were there after all – but he felt a little on the outs watching Mark's arm drape casually around his fiance's shoulder while Kian sat trying to keep both hands in his lap.

Nicky's parents came over not long after. There were handshakes and hugs all round – they'd met quite often over the years at concerts and celebrations, and having their sons in a relationship was definitely a wheel-greaser as well. Still, Kian could tell the difference straight away.

Nikki didn't seem to be a problem. He just grabbed himself a beer from the fridge and settled down next to Oliver to make a joking comment about the traffic getting there.

Yvonne... Kian wouldn't have called her rude. She wasn't. But there was something about her. The way she only seemed to talk directly to Nicky or her husband. She didn't ignore the others, but she looked decidedly uncomfortable, looked like she'd put a bit of effort into her outfit when the rest were sitting in jeans and t-shirts. Like she was trying to hard to not be rude, to be the cool accepting mother when the others were just authentically cool and accepting.

“Mark, I'm glad you made an honest man out of him.” Nicky's dad laughed, reaching over to punch his future son-in-law lightly on the knee. There was nothing forced about it, and the smile was genuine.

“I thought it was the other way round.” Oliver teased. “I thought our Mark was never going to commit to the lad. Keep stringing a nice boy like that along and he'll get up and move on.”

“Dad...” Mark groaned, but he was smiling and blushing a bit. Nicky laughed, ruffling his hair.

“That it? You keep me waiting?”

“Oh, you were the one who proposed were ye?” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Must've remembered it wrong.”

“I'm just glad for ya.” Marie smiled. “I knew it. The moment I saw you two together when you got up at that fella's party and sang. I said to Ollie: 'I think there's something there between these two.' Didn't I, love?”

“You did.” Oliver replied, though whether he actually remembered or was just agreeing with his wife wasn't clear.

Kian got up to get the invitations. They'd made a list already of people who had to be there. It was a big list. Kian wondered how much the thing was actually going to end up costing. He'd suggested maybe fishing for a magazine deal to cover expenses, but Mark hadn't been keen to have their day splashed against Hello! or OK!

He brought a bottle of wine back with him. It was only mid-afternoon, but he supposed they were sort of celebrating and the constant silence from certain parts of the room needed breaking.

It was all going well. The list was getting longer by the minute as people they didn't know they'd forgotten were added. The second bottle of wine was opened, but nobody was tipsy – one bottle between seven people wasn't exactly a rave. Even Yvonne appeared to be loosening up a bit, had managed to make halting conversation with Marie, though as far as Kian could tell she still hadn't said two words to Mark except to greet him at the door. Mark's parents had hugged Nicky when they'd arrived, Marie wrapping him up like she was trying to absorb him. Nikki had happily shaken Mark's hand when he'd come in. Yvonne... hadn't.

The third bottle of wine eased things up a bit. The fourth one didn't hurt either.

It was starting to get dark. Kian ordered pizza. When it came they made a collective decision to take a break from the task at hand, partly because they didn't want to get grease all over the rather pretty yellow paper they'd chosen for the invitations, but mostly because their hands were starting to hurt. Kian stretched his out, glancing at the rather long list of names he'd been working his way neatly through.

He collected them all up, putting them together at the side in a neat pile.

“Nix, your handwriting is bloody atrocious.” He laughed, picking one up and waving it. “What does this even say?”

“That's... ehm...” Nicky took it, squinting at the words that were all in loopy capitals for some reason. “Norman.”

“We don't know a Norman.”

“Ehm...” He turned it upside down, then right way up again. “Liam?”

“Liam who?”

“You know. Liam.” Nicky pouted, turning into Mark's shoulder. “S'not my fault. I'm creative.”

“You are.” Mark laughed, ruffling his hair. Nicky turned his face up, lifting a small, sweet kiss to his fiance's lips. Mark smiled into it, kissing him gently back. There were collective 'awwws' from the rest of the room, especially Mark's mam, who looked like she was about to get up and hug them both just for being so cute. Kian knew how she felt. “But maybe we could find you something more creative to do.”

“He's fine.” Nicky's mam said. Her cheeks were a little flushed with wine, but she seemed level enough. “Your handwriting's fine, love. Don't worry.”

“I wasn't.” Nicky shrugged, looking up at Mark again. “I've got this guy. He can do all my writing for me and I'll sit around the house being creative.”

“So you're only with me because I can do a legible shopping list?”

“It's every boy's dream.” Nicky grinned, leaning in for another kiss. “When you proposed, my first thought was 'thank god he's got legible handwriting'.”

“So romantic.” Mark nudged him. “We should get them to ice that on the cake.”

“Oh, yes, how is that going?” Marie asked. “You got all your organising done?”

“Getting there.” Mark smiled, pulling Nicky in to nestle against his shoulder. “Kian's got a checklist. He's very organised. And Yvonne's been a big help as well.” Kian saw her swell a little bit with pride, and was glad, though he could see how thin Mark's smile went as he said the words. “We're having it at this gorgeous place on the river, with this big glass ceiling. Though knowing Dublin, all you'll be seeing through it is clouds.”

“I thought you were getting that ballroom in town?” Yvonne asked.

“Yeah, we found this place and changed our minds.” Nicky said dismissively. “Mark found it, actually.” He looked up shyly. “It's gorgeous.”

“Got your honeymoon sorted?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah, thinking America.” Mark said, smiling. “Nobody knows us there so we can just chill out for a few weeks. I want see some of the big... you know... music places. The history and that. Nashville, go to Motown Records, all that stuff. Nicky wants to drive up the west coast a bit.”

“I want to go to Disneyland.” Nicky said triumphantly. “And yeah. I dunno, it sounds nice. Get a car and just go. We've got the year off so we can stay as long as we like. Get an open-ended ticket, sort of thing.”

“How long do you think you'll go for?” Kian asked. Nicky turned to look at him, his smile faltering a little bit. Kian looked back, trying to be encouraging. But... fuck, he was just thinking they'd be two weeks or so. He already knew he was going to miss them. This was...

“Er... I dunno.” Mark shrugged. “Until we come back.” He pursed his lips, resting a hand on Kian's shoulder. “You'll keep the place tidy while we're gone, yeah? No mad raves?”  
  
“Can't promise anything.” Kian forced a laugh for the benefit of the others in the room. Nicky was staring at him, though, a slow, evaluating look bleeding into his face. Kian needed to get out of the room all of a sudden. He felt claustrophobic. “Erm... I have to go to the bathroom. Too much wine.” He pushed himself out of the chair, felt his legs wobble a little bit even though he wasn't remotely drunk.

He paused in the upstairs hallway, leaning against his own bedroom door and trying to catch his breath. For some reason he felt like crying, but that was bloody stupid. So he stood there instead, breathing in deep and staring at the open door across from him, the kingsize bed. He went in and sat down, laying back for a minute and closing his eyes, breathing in the smell of what they'd done just that morning, when Nicky had been spooned to his back, thrusting slowly in a torturous rhythm that had made Kian fist his hands in Mark's hair, kiss him hard while Nicky had stroked his thighs comfortingly, trying to distract him from the unstoppable, maddening pressure on his prostate.

“Love you.” Mark had said. And Kian had whimpered, sandwiched between them and unable to focus on anything but the feel of them, Mark's hand stroking him, tugging him toward the edge while Nicky had scraped teeth down the back of his neck and come, Kian's name on his lips.

There was a photo on the dresser. All three of them, Mark in the middle with an arm around each of their shoulders while he and Nicky gave the camera the finger. It was a cute, cheeky moment, nothing incriminating in the shot. There were a few photos around the house of Mark and Nicky kissing, in varying states of affection that, while tasteful, left nothing ambiguous as to the state of their relationship. Kian was in a few as well, but it wasn't the same. It couldn't be.

He went back down after a minute, and was surprised to find the living room empty, half-eaten pizza still strewn in boxes across the floor. He heard noises and went into the kitchen to find Nicky holding two bottles of wine up, looking between the two and apparently trying to make a decision.

“Hey. Where is everyone?”

“Back garden.” Nicky pursed his lips, turning to look at Kian. “Various people wanted a cigarette.”

“So... Mark then?”

“That's the one.” Nicky sighed. “Red or white?”

“Up to you.”

“Eh, I'll just take both, then that lot can pick.” Nicky put them both down on the counter and reached for the corkscrew. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Why?”

“No reason. You just seemed a bit quiet.” Nicky uncorked the red, then set about on the white. When he was done, he turned to look at Kian, leaning back against the counter. “If it's about the honeymoon...”

“It's fine, Nix.” Kian forced a smile. Nicky came over, glanced quickly at the door to make sure they weren't about to be interrupted, and drew Kian into a quick hug, kissing his cheek as he pulled away. “I just didn't know you were thinking of going so long. I'll keep the house tidy, I promise.”

“You can come with us?”

“I really don't think I should.” Kian shook his head, squeezing Nicky's hand lightly before the older boy went back to the wine. “It's not... It's your thing. You two need to go do those things together. Spend time together. Shag in every state.” He had a sudden fleeting image of Nicky's feet up on the dashboard of a convertible, the Pacific ocean blinding and gold in the sunset, Mark smiling at him from behind the wheel. Kian, sitting in the backseat by himself, trying to listen in on conversation that kept getting snatched away by the wind.

“We'll miss you.”

“I know.” Kian nodded. They would. He knew that. He also knew that if Nicky and Mark were apart for that long it wouldn't be a simple case of missing the other. They'd burn for each other, go slightly mad within days, end up rocking back and forth in the corner chewing off their fingernails until their missing piece came back. “But you'll be having fun with each other. I'll be here when you get back.”

“Nix, can you...” Mark paused, looking between the two of them. He was stood in the doorway, his cheeks ruddy with the late-January air. “Hey. Just wanted to see if we had any ice-cream.”

“I picked up some choc-mint the other day.” Kian pointed at the freezer. “How's it going out there?”

“Yeah, not bad.” Mark nodded, touching Kian lightly on the shoulder as he went past. “You might want to run some damage control, though. Your mam just found out we changed the cake.”

“Shit.” Nicky sighed, handing Kian the wine. “Is she pissed off?”

“No, just keeps looking like she's about the burst into tears. And she keeps glaring at me.” Mark pursed his lips. “Admittedly she was doing that before she found out about the cake, so whatever.”

“I'm sorry babe.” Nicky leaned in, pecking his cheek. “I'll go distract her.” He grabbed the wine, heading towards the door like he was about to bludgeon someone with the bottle. Mark sank down into a chair, putting his newly discovered ice cream on the kitchen table. Kian went to rummage up some bowls and spoons, and when he got back his boyfriend was sitting with his head in his hands, staring into nothing.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Mark shook himself, then looked at the spoons Kian had accumulated. Without saying anything, he grabbed one, levered the lid off the container of ice-cream and helped himself to a heaping spoonful, shoving it in his mouth. He swallowed. Shovelled up another one, beginning to eat straight from the tub. He looked at Kian. “Anyone asks, it was like this when I found it.”

“Of course.” Kian smiled. “It was me. Midnight sleep-eating. Do it all the time.”

“Terrible habit. You'll get fat.” He scooped up a third spoonful, ate it, then closed the tub, pushing it away as though it might slide back over and force itself down his throat. “Right, I'm going to have another cigarette. How are you, by the way?”

“In what sense?”

“Whatever sense you like.” Mark shrugged. “I dunno. I've been squashed up next to you on the couch and I feel like we've barely said two words to each other. Thought I'd check in.”

“I'm fine.” Kian reached out, grabbing a spoon of his own. Mark laughed, watching him open the container again and get himself a nice big spoonful. He put it in his mouth, feeling the sweetness flood his tastebuds. “It all seems to be going okay.”

“Yeah, more or less. It's not just me being paranoid, though, is it?”  
  
“No, I don't think so.” Kian shook his head, putting a hand over Mark's. It squeezed back. “She's not being rude or anything. It's just...”

“Yeah, that's it.” Mark shrugged. “I suppose it could be worse.”

“I suppose it could.” Kian agreed. He closed the tub, pushed it back towards Mark. Mark pushed it back towards him. There was a bit of a struggle, and then they both made a silent agreement to push it to the side, out of the way of both their eyelines. “Mark... I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.” Mark smiled, squeezing his hand. “I'm really going to miss you when we're away.”

Kian stood, picking up the ice-cream. They'd been in here ages now. People were probably wondering where they were. He could hear the garden door sliding open, the sudden babble of voices as everyone came back inside, a hard thrum of rain in the background. Nicky laughed loudly, saying something about the bloody weather. Kian glanced at the kitchen window, noticing hard drops begin to strike the glass.

“I'll miss you too.” He said quietly, heading toward the sound of voices from the next room.

 

*

 

They went to bed late. Nicky's parents caught a taxi, both of them a little too tipsy to drive. Mark's parents retired to the upstairs bedroom, and Kian took a quick shower and then collapsed onto the couch, tucked under a slightly musty blanket from the linen closet. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the soft murmur of the two couples settling in for the night. The upstairs toilet flushed, and he heard the soft pad of Mark's feet on the floor, the squeak of springs. They probably wouldn't be doing anything up there, not with Mark's parents in the next room, but it would be nice anyway. Sleeping together. Being held. Waking up in the middle of the night to Nicky accidentally kicking him in his sleep, Mark snoring. He knew it well. Knew them. Like the back of his hand. Like the lyrics to a song.

He slept restlessly, and when he woke it was just breaking on a late winter dawn, a sheen of frost coating the windows. There was the smell of butter frying, and when he went to investigate he found Marie at the stove, a pan out and a mixing bowl nearby.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Kian croaked. She turned, smiling welcomingly as he sank into a chair. “You're up early.”

“Oh, we're too used to the early mornings in the country. Oliver's in the shower.” She picked up the bowl and handed it to him. “Give this a stir for me, yeah?”

“No problem.” He began to stir, the wooden spoon clumsy in his hand while he tried to wake up. “Pancakes?” He asked.

“Mark's favourite. Nutella.” She reached out to take it from him, beginning to spoon some of the mixture into the pan. “Thought I'd give him a treat. Nicky doesn't seem like much of a chef.”

“He manages.” Kian yawned, leaning back in his chair. “Can I help or anything?”

“No, it's fine.” She turned to smile at him. “Sounds like you've been a lot of help already. Mark was saying you've been driving them around, helping them sort the wedding out.”

“Been doing my best. They're useless when they get all flustered.”

“Don't I know it.” She laughed, turning back to the pan and flipping the pancakes over. They smelled fantastic – proper fresh ones instead of from a packet. “I was talking to your mother the other day. She said to say hello.”  
  
“I spoke to her on the phone yesterday. She said to say hello to you too.” He snorted a laugh while she smiled. “I'm going to try to visit her before the tour starts back up. Once it's on I'll barely be home. I've just been so busy with the wedding...”

“She knows.” Marie flipped the pancakes out onto a plate, picking up the mix to start another batch. “She worries about you a bit, you know. I think she's sort of hoping you've got yourself a girlfriend.”

“Not yet, no.” Kian smiled indulgently. “Haven't really been looking. It's too hard at the moment, you know? We're always off on the other side of the world or something, and I feel like it wouldn't be fair to do that.”

“Shane's got Gillian.”

“Yeah, but they're already married. It's a bit different to go on a date or something, and then it's like 'oh, I'll see you in six weeks when I get back from... from China or South Africa or the Philippines'.” He shrugged. “I've got the year off coming up, so I suppose I'll be a bit freer, but it's the sort of thing where I don't really want to go looking too hard on purpose. You know? If you find it, you find it.” He pointed up at the ceiling. “Like those two, you know? They just... fell into each other. I mean, you know, you're married.”

“Aye.” She gestured at the kettle. “Put on some cocoa for me, love?” He nodded, getting up to fill it from the sink. “I'm glad they found each other. Nicky brings Mark out of his shell a bit. I was a bit worried at the start there, but it's all worked out.”

“Worried? What, that they wouldn't work out?”  
  
“No. I think they will, but if they don't...” She slid another batch of pancakes onto the plate, began to scrape the last of the batter out into the pan. “...you know, sometimes things don't work out the way we expect, but there's no point worrying about it until it happens.” Kian snorted. Didn't he know it. “I was more worried that Mark wouldn't let himself love Nicky back. He's always been a bit broody, a bit afraid to jump into things. We knew he was gay, but it took him so long to even say that. I think Nicky makes him... I don't know. Braver. Challenges him. Makes him shine a bit brighter.”

Kian began to spoon cocoa into mugs. “How many for you?”

“Oh... two, please. Oliver will take one and a sugar.” She turned to look at him. “You're good for him too. You always have been, even when you were a rude little scamp, getting into fights all over the place.” God, those had been weird days. Once a guy had just come to his front door, asked to see him, and punched him in the face. He couldn't remember why, but he'd probably deserved it. It all seemed so long ago. “He loved singing, but I don't think he would have done anything about it if you lot hadn't pushed him. He'd still be at the Hawks Well, hiding in the chorus. Now he's doing Croke Park.”

“It's only eighty thousand people.” Kian joked, feeling the sudden electric anxiety that went up his spine whenever he thought about it. “I'm bricking it, if I'm honest.”

“I would be too.” She laughed. “Are they happy?”

“They're happy.” Kian nodded. “Mark makes Nicky better too, I think. Calms him down a bit. Stops him from panicking too much about things that don't matter and makes him focus more on things that do.” He added milk to the mugs, then hot water. “Nicky loves him. Doesn't just love him. Like, there's love, and then there's what those two have. They're like...” He trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He shook his head instead, picking up his own cocoa and sipping it.

“You'll find it too one day, I'm sure.” She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You're a nice lad. Not bad on the eyes, either.”  
  
“Thanks.” He felt himself blush a little bit. “But I'm okay for now.”  
  
“That's the main thing.” She grabbed a jar of nutella from the cupboard. There were about four jars in there. Mark's stash. “You right to go wake those two up? I'll get this on the table.”

 

*

 

“You nervous?” Shane asked. Kian shrugged. He could just see the crowd through the screen in front of him as the coloured lights danced over it, blocking the audience's view of the four of them stood together. Nicky was between he and Shane, dancing on the balls of his feet and punching the air, getting pumped up. Mark was fiddling with his earpiece.

“Not really.” He replied. “I've been helping with the wedding for the last two weeks, so this is easy in comparison. He glanced at Nicky, who was doing squats for some reason. “You had a Red Bull Nix?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason.” Kian laughed, glancing at Shane, who was rolling his eyes. The RSVPs had started to roll in over the last week, leading to them playing something Kian liked to call Seating Chart Bingo. It was a great game. They would point at people who hated each other, try to figure out how to put all the families together, and then at the end there were no winners. “If I can get through the seating charts without killing one of them, I can play Belfast.”

“Well, as best man...” Shane had been saying that a lot. He was really chuffed about it, which was thoroughly adorable. All three had avoided telling him how they'd come to that decision. Kian had a feeling it might have dampened his excitement a bit. “...I think we need to organise a bachelor party. Might get a bit of stress out.”

“Ooh, bachelor party?” Nicky stopped boxing the air just long enough to look between the two of them.

“Bachelor party?” Mark piped up. “What are we doing for that, then?”

Kian laughed, turning towards the audience as the lights began to flicker faster, the music pump up. They all took positions, Shane lifting the microphone to his lips.

The screen dropped.

The crowd screamed.

He started to dance, feeling Nicky and Mark fall into step on either side of him.


End file.
